Beyond the Sea of Time
by Torchwood Prof
Summary: No Gods or Kings. Only Men. The Doctor is on his own again, and decides to visit the swinging sixties to cheer himself up. But the flight goes wrong. Very wrong. And the Doctor arrives in Rapture, 1960. Now, would you kindly read the story? Post Series 4.


Author's Note:

The Professor: Hello, and welcome to Ambrose the Book-Wolf and the Torchwood Professor's story, "Beyond the Sea of Time". Don't worry if you don't get the title - all will become apparent once the story gets underway. Now, this story is going to be FREAKY, OK, so don't say we didn't warn you. There's going to be gore, and death, and sadism, so understand that.

Ambrose: Correct - this isn't a story for the faint of heart. For those of you saying, _'What the hell are they talking about?'_, perhaps you'll understand when we say that this is a crossover between Doctor Who and BioShock. So, to the disclaimers - Doctor Who and all other people, places, concepts, species', etc that are affiliated with the Doctor Who universe are the intellectual property of the BBC and the various editors and writers, ect. BioShock and all other people, places, concepts, species', etc that are affiliated with the BioShock universe are the intellectual property of 2K Boston and were designed by Ken Levine. Any and all other references to outside TV shows, movies, cartoons, books, etc, are not in any way inclined toward encroaching copyright. That's the warning done - I think that's enough for now. Enjoy the story, read and review, guys!

(Chapter 1 - Start)

_Oh, the shark, babe  
Has such, teeth, dear  
And it shows them,  
pearly white . . ._

November 31st 1960, 9:12 P.M, ten thousand feet over the Atlantic Ocean  
63° 2° North, 29° 55° West

_--_

_They always said to me, 'Jack, you're special'_

_'Is that a gun?'_

_'You know what?'_

_'What the hell's he doing?!'_

_"GET HIM AWAY FROM THOSE CONTROLS!"_

_'They were right'_

_"WE'RE GOING DOWN!"_

--

November 31st 1960, 9:15 P.M, the Atlantic Ocean  
63° 2° North, 29° 55° West

_--_

He woke up lying on his back, against the floor of the airplane. The thick carpet cushioned his back ever so slightly, which was quite a relief - the crash had been - it had been . . . Why the hell couldn't he remember? He was reading the letter his mom and dad had given him - where was that, anyway? - then, then . . . blank. What'd happened?

Jack slowly pulled himself up by one of the armrests of the chair closest to him. He had soon reestablished himself, and was looking around in confusion. He was still in the passenger tube, but - _oh, no. God_ . . . thought Jack as he saw the body of the air steward laying across the row of seats he'd used to pull himself up with, a dark red hole smack bang in the centre of his head.

He felt the bile rise in his throat, and could barely maintain his composure as he saw the other twisted bodies around him - the impact had seemingly killed them all - save him. He had to have been pretty damn special to live, he thought angrily, and then he heard the water - cascading around him. And then he realized that they'd crashed in the water, as the tube began to tilt, slowly beginning to fill with water. He made his way to what had been the tail of the plane, only seeing as he turned around that it simply wasn't there anymore - there was just a hole, a hole leading out into the cold, dark stormy sea.

He looked back, and saw the water begin to increase its pace, more and more of the cushioned seats and bodies being pulled under. He quickly ran up the aisle, and jumped out of the tube. He prepared himself for the cold and wet of the Atlantic Ocean, and he was not disappointed as he was quickly encompassed by the freezing water up to his waist, his arms outstretched in case he needed to secure his position.

God he was cold.

--

August 23rd 2009, 9:15 P.M, Chiswick  
London, Earth

--

Rassilon he was cold.

The Doctor looked around sadly at the TARDIS. No-one was left. Rose; gone with _him_. Martha, Jack, Mickey; off at Torchwood, no doubt having a fine time. And Donna - he cut off that train of thought quickly, and began to undo his tie. He gave a shiver; he had no idea why he'd let himself get so wet, it'd ruin his suit, and he liked that suit . . . _Of course you know_, he thought, _you're the Doctor; that great and mighty, cheeky and sweet Time Lord, who knows _**_everything!_**He slapped angrily at one of the TARDIS controls, and sighed.

_No smarter than Donna, _his mind whispered again, and he slung the tie off in a frenzy, breathing deeply through his nose. He undid his top button, and then he lost his feet, fair collapsing into the captains' chair, staring moodily at the ceramic console. He could feel the all-encompassing telepathic presence of the TARDIS outside of his mental shields, which were at an all time high after that incident on Midnight /**Stop it now, this isn't funny!/** and gave a jerk.

He relaxed his shields, and felt the TARDIS begin to sooth him, reassuring him with her presence. He closed his eyes and leaned back, resting his weary head on the moth-eaten cushion of the chair. He gave a mighty sigh then, then, quick as a whippet, got back to his feet. He grabbed his tie, suit and coat, then hurried into the depths of the TARDIS wardrobe, aching to get out of these freezing clothes. These feelings were just a - a - a tunnel, that's what it was, and he knew how to get out of tunnels.

There was always a light at the end of them, after all.

--

November 31st 1960, 9:17 P.M, the Atlantic Ocean  
63° 2° North, 29° 55° West

--

There was a light, there! Right at the end!

Jack strained his eyes to search the darkness for the light he'd sworn flash not too far away. He had barely escaped being burnt alive by stray fuel tanks exploding, and he would be damned if he froze to death in the middle of a bloody ocean after surviving a plane crash. He lightly paddled forward, and saw the light again. He broke into a fully fledge swim, and then the darkness ahead of him began to form into something tangible.

It was a lighthouse. Jack nearly stopped swimming at the strange sight - _a lighthouse in the middle of the ocean? - _and before long he had reached the tall structure, pulling himself onto what looked like a pier. Perhaps it was some kind of port, Jack reflected, as he saw some abandoned luggage strewn about the stone staircase which seemed to lead into the building.

He finally reached the entrance, and was bewildered to see it was made out of what looked like copper. He pushed it lightly to open it, and his hands nearly recoiled at the cold of the metal meeting the cold of the water, before he quickly hurried inside, to what he had hoped to be light and warmth, but instead turned out to be complete darkness - again. However, before he could even beseech the gods for some light, several spotlights hummed and switched on, nearly blinding him.

Someone has an inferiority complex, thought Jack, as he surveyed the gargantuan bronze statue of a man in a suit that leaned over him, the look of a schoolmaster about the face that towered over him and the small plaques and banners that read "**NO GODS OR KINGS. ONLY MAN"**. Jack wasn't sure what to think about it all, but he was grateful for the light that streamed at him. Then he noticed the steps, leading down, and started to walk down them, the sound of his shoes clip-clopping surrounding him.

Once he had reached the bottom, he saw the Bathysphere, and decided that wherever it took him would be better than waiting around in an abandoned building for god knows how long. He stepped inside the sphere, and pulled the lever, the worn plastic feeling slippery still in his hands. Then he felt the sphere jolt, then begin it's descent. The water encompassed him again, and the golden fathom marks flashed by him.

Then the room darkened, and a film blind extended over the Bathysphere window, obscuring Jack's view . . .

--

August 23rd 2009, 9:22 P.M, Chiswick  
London, Earth

--

All that rain was obscuring his brainy specs, reflected the Doctor as he fished out a handkerchief to wipe them clean.

He had since changed into a new suit - this one was a dark green, with dark blue pinstripes running down it - and new trainers - these were that new pair of dark blue high-tops he'd picked up at Shan-Shen - and was feeling marginally better. He had decided, as he had showered and changed, that he'd be better off doing something interesting than moping around and simply hoping things would happen.

He pulled off the hand-brake, then slowly brought down the handheld lever just to his right and the bike pump to his left - he could still feel Jack's warmth on the wooden handle - with a small, melancholy grin on his face as the TARDIS began to fade in and out of reality, falling into the time vortex. He needed some cheering up - some company, maybe. Where was best, where was best - ?

Oh, how could he be so thick! Brain's too full of stuff, I need a bigger head - the Doctor reflected, as he slammed down the mallet on the aluminum sheet, which dented ever so slightly, and said to himself "The Kashmir Restaurant, December 31st, 1958 - " he cut himself off, then continued as he flicked three of the switches on the circuit board.

"Rapture!"

(Chapter 1 - End)

Ambrose: I think that's a pretty solid first chapter, don't you think, Professor?

The Professor: _is playing BioShock _Mhm? Oh, yes - very good. Next chapter - New Year's Eve, 1958, and the Doctor meets Miss Diane McClintock . . .

Ambrose: Indeed, so watch this space. See ya next chapter guys! Read and review!


End file.
